


The Stark Team

by therealfroggy



Category: A-Team (2010), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iron Man/A-Team crossover: Tony Stark has use of the A-Team. No, not really. He just wants to get into their pants. 'Cause, you know, they're hot. Written in response to a kink meme at LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stark Team

“Hannibal, I know you're good, but this? I'm fucking impressed,” Face crowed gleefully.

Hannibal growled something unintelligible and pulled hard on his cigar, making the tip glow in the late evening. The boss had been grumpy since they got the call, and Face just couldn't understand why. This was probably the sweetest mission they'd ever come across. Ever.

“Bossman, I still don't understand why we're here,” Murdock said, scratching at his head under that adorable flying cap of his. “Ain't he got ties to the army?”

“He does, but there are more skeletons in his closet than in ours,” Hannibal said, and punched a code into the small side entrance gate in the security fence around Stark's property. “At least we can count on him to keep his mouth shut. After all, he contacted us about some job or other. He said he needed out help.”

“Awesome!” Face grinned. “I heard he did twelve out of twelve of the _Penthouse_ centrefolds.”

“Nah, was the _Playboy_ centrefolds,” BA said, sounding improperly disinterested considering who he was talking about, in Face's opinion. “And who cares, the fool's obviously got a problem he can't solve. We fix it, we get paid, we get outta town, right, boss?”

“Right,” Hannibal growled, and then they were at the front door. “He said he'd be alone, let's see if he's as good as his word.”

Hannibal knocked, and the door opened – automatically. Face grinned, Hannibal continued to look unimpressed. Entering the swanky mansion, the four of them did look a bit odd – dusty fatigues and worn combat boots against all the white, sparkly clean of the interior – but the only one who seemed to care was Face.

“Kid, what the hell are you doing?” Hannibal muttered after seeing Face smooth his hair down for the third time.

“This is Tony Stark we're talking about, boss,” Face hissed back. “Stark! As in -”

“As in the guy who's about to offer you something to drink,” a voice interrupted, and the team turned to find themselves face to smiling face with the obscenely rich, frustratingly headstrong and – in Hannibal's honest opinion – disgustingly handsome Tony Stark. Playboy and weapons dealer extraordinaire, and also – apparently – superhero.

“I'm a scotch man, myself,” Stark said, gesturing for them to follow him over to a sort of bar at one end of his living room. One of the living rooms, or salons, or whatever the fuck, Hannibal thought. “What can I get you?”

After they were all introduced and settled comfortably around a table, everyone but Murdock nursing a scotch (the pilot wasn't allowed anything stronger than beer, and Stark had conjured up some fancy imported stuff), Face leaned a little towards the millionaire and smiled.

“So what can we do you for, mister Stark?”

Hannibal's hands tightened into fists. Face was... easily distracted, but it wasn't often he acted like a fourteen year-old fan girl. Apparently Stark was a bit more impressive to the kid than the clients they usually dealt with. Or a bit more attractive, probably.

“Funny you should ask that,” Stark said, and ran his eyes over Face, just casually evaluating the conman, before grinning in a distinctly shark-like fashion. “I actually do have a real job for you. Explosions, violence, saving the day and so on. But for tonight, I thought we might just... familiarize. Develop that team spirit, hmm?”

Hannibal put his glass down on the table, glaring at Stark. “We already got that _team spirit_ , Stark. Aplenty.”

Stark's grin widened. “Oh, is that so? Well, colonel, it's obvious what _you_ think of team spirit, but I think it would be unfair to let you speak for the whole team. Murdock, was it? How do you feel about a little... soiree?”

Murdock grinned happily, to all appearances oblivious as always. “We're always up for a party, mister Stark, ain't that right, Facey?”

In the following staring contest between Hannibal and Stark, nobody noticed BA sneaking off towards the stairs. The sergeant knew a manly bitch fight when he saw one, and he had no intentions of being caught in the middle of it. Hannibal would take care of Murdock, and Face could take care of himself. BA wanted to check out Stark's stable of wheels; the word was, it was worth more than most people could make in ten years.

“I've got the most amazing view of the city from my bedroom,” Stark said, grinning at Hannibal. “Would you care to see it?”

Face almost swooned. Hannibal vowed he would never let the younger man live this down.

“Sure!” he gushed, following Stark halfway across the room before Hannibal could voice a protest. “Sweet place you got here, mister Stark.”

“Please, call me Tony,” the brat said, and placed an overly familiar arm across Face's shoulders. “Face? That's an interesting nickname. Very appropriate. Wait 'till you see the trick my windows do; perfect for a guy like you...”

Murdock was about to follow the two other men when Hannibal put an arm on the pilot's shoulder. “You know what he wants, don't you, HM?”

“Oh, sure, colonel,” Murdock said with a dreamy smile. “He wants to compromise our virtue. We'll let him, won't we, boss?”

Hannibal grimaced. “I know we've never discussed exclusivity, Murdock, and I won't object if you want to. But don't let him... He's just a client, alright? You're under no obligations to him.”

Murdock grinned that loopy grin again. “Boss, come on, I can't be the only one curious about which one's prettier with their clothes off; 'im or Facey.”

Hannibal smiled ruefully. “You got me there, captain. That's... that's a good question. Let's go find out, shall we?”

On entering the bedroom, Hannibal discovered yet another quality of Stark's: he didn't waste time. The weapons dealer was shirtless and grinning at them over Face's shoulder; the conman was apparently busy trying to eat his way through Stark's neck. Hannibal couldn't stop his smirk. Face didn't waste time, either; Stark seemed to share a lot of the qualities that Hannibal found endearing in Face. Perhaps he could learn to like the rich boy after all.

“Gentlemen, how good of you to join us. Face and I were just discussing -”

“You know, I think you've talked enough for one night,” Hannibal said gruffly, shedding his gun holster and gloves as he made his way over to the two men entwined by the bed. “More show, less tell, Stark.”

“None of you are really big on the first names, huh?” the dark-haired man said, provocatively sliding his hands over Face's back. “What do I call you, then?”

“Face,” Hannibal said, ignoring Stark, “lose the shirt.”

Face immediately obeyed, throwing a heated look over his shoulder at Hannibal as he did so. Then he turned back to Stark, dipping his head lower to nibble over the man's chest. Hannibal watched, intrigued, as Stark's hand tangled in Face's hair and the weapons dealer groaned deeply. Face was good at that, Hannibal knew from experience.

“Say, Tony, what's that?” Murdock said suddenly, and all but pushed Face out of the way to get at Stark's chest.

There was a lantern in the middle of it. A bluish white, glowing light in the middle of the man's chest. Hannibal raised an eyebrow, almost impressed. The rumours appeared to be true; there was something out of the ordinary about Stark. Face had apparently been happily ignoring that thing for the past few minutes; Murdock could not.

“This? Just my little engine,” Stark said. “An arc reactor that keeps my heart going. Don't worry, though; it's completely safe. If it can carry my iron suit, then it can stand the strain of vigorous sexual intercourse.”

Smart-mouthing brat.

“Man's got a night light in his chest,” Murdock muttered, entranced by the glowing circle. Then he leaned down and licked over it, making Stark jump a little. “Tastes just like Jenny.”

Stark turned to Hannibal, for once out of his depth. Good, Hannibal thought.

“Jenny?”

“Last plane he fucked, uh, flew,” Face said, blushing just a little. Honestly? When was the last time Hannibal had ever seen him blush?

Stark chuckled. “Yes, it's rather metallic. So, you like flying, Murdock? I could take you for a ride...”

“Don't give him ideas,” Hannibal growled, lips still clamped around his cigar. He pulled heavily on it. He didn't usually like sharing, and this brat was just making too big a deal out of it.

_Just remember that Stark is probably a good six to eight years older than Face, old man; he's not that much younger than you. Even if he does act like a brat._

Stark found himself pushed to the bed beneath an eager Murdock, the pilot's hands dancing over the reactor with curiosity. Murdock straddled him, following the weapons dealer down.

“'S real purdy,” Murdock commented. He leaned down to taste the reactor again. “Can I try it?”

Stark laughed, but then looked up at Murdock with surprise when he realized the pilot wasn't joking. “He's not firing on all cylinders, is he?”

Hannibal was on him in a heartbeat; one strong hand folding around Stark's throat, the other holding him down by a shoulder. “He's just right,” Hannibal snarled, staring into Stark's eyes. “Captain Murdock is fine just the way he is. If you've got a problem with that, _Stark_ , then I suggest you just tell us the mission and pay us up front, so we can get out of here.”

“Hannibal, please,” Stark said – or rather, wheezed – and tried directing one of his charming grins in Hannibal's direction. “I was making a statement, not a judgement. I like him _just fine_ , thank you, and I'd like Face to help me demonstrate just how much. You'd be up for that, wouldn't you, _kid_?”

Hannibal's eyes narrowed. Nobody called Face that; nobody but him. But a shudder went through Face's body and he joined the other two on the bed, batting Hannibal's hand away to kiss Stark briefly before showing Murdock the same courtesy.

“Come on, boss,” Face said with a wide grin. “This is gonna be _great_!”

Hannibal pulled on his cigar once, then put it out right on Stark's wall and there was a scorch mark there now. Then he pulled up one of the imitation eighteenth century chairs flanking the walk-in closet, and sat down next to the bed, getting comfortable.

“Actually, I thought I might watch for the first round. Get an idea of what Stark likes before I fuck his brains out.”

“Oh, so it's _my_ brains that are to be the victim?” Stark said, looking smugly at Hannibal from where he was sandwiched between Face and Murdock on the bed. “I wouldn't be so sure, colonel.”

Murdock gave a snort. “Nobody tops the bossman,” he said as if stating that air planes fly and cars do not. Then he began removing clothing, and Hannibal lost all interest in watching Stark at all. Murdock in the nude was a treat each and every time.

“Jarvis!” Stark called, sitting up and watching Murdock hungrily. “This would be a good time to start recording, if you'd be so kind.”

“As you wish, sir,” came a disembodied voice. It sounded oddly... digital. The infamous Jarvis, apparently, and just as omnipresent as rumoured.

“Recording?” Hannibal growled, glaring at Stark. He couldn't believe the other man would sink that low! They didn't succumb to blackmail anyway, considering they were already outlaws.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Stark hastily assured him, efficiently stripping Face of his slacks. “Just a small memorandum for my personal collection. If you want, you can watch some of the others while you wait. I've got a few Miss United States in here, or maybe one of the Air Force recruits would be more your cup of tea?”

“If you actually think I would watch a video of you fucking another man, then you're even more conceited than I imagined possible,” Hannibal said.

“Well, you are about to watch me fuck two other men live,” Stark pointed out, and began relieving Murdock of his trousers as well.

Face's mouth had been occupied at Murdock's neck through all of this, but the younger man raised his head to grin dazedly up at Stark. “Wow. I honestly can't decide who's the bigger BAMF,” he said, sounding as if his world was about to be rocked.

Which it was, Hannibal realized. Face was a narcissist and a sex addict, and to have three other men – two of them very, very attractive, Hannibal admitted, and felt pretty old for a moment – at his mercy for an entire night must be the stuff his dreams were made of. Even Murdock seemed unable to resist Stark's charm, and Face had always been a little susceptible to awe-struck admiration of impressive men.

Hannibal usually loved that quality in his lieutenant, since it was usually directed at Hannibal himself. However, if Face wanted an orgy, then Hannibal would make damn sure the kid got an orgy. And Stark had better make it good for Face, or Hannibal would rearrange his facial features on a permanent basis.

“All cameras are recording, sir,” Jarvis said. “If you'll excuse me, I will ensure our guest in the basement is comfortable.”

“Whoa, Jarvis, guest?” Stark said, still undressing himself and the other two. “I don't recall letting anyone down in the basement.”

“That would be Bosco,” Murdock said, giggling a little as Face ran his hands over his sensitive ribs. “He's lookin' at the cars.”

“Let him look,” Stark said, hungry eyes roving over the conman currently licking teasingly over Murdock's nipples. They were all naked by that point. “Keep an eye on him, would you, Jarvis?”

“Gladly, sir,” Jarvis said, and if Hannibal didn't know he was talking about an artificial intelligence, he would have sworn the electronic butler sounded very disdainful. It was a good thing machines didn't have homophobic tendencies.

“Now, which one of you are going to... oh, yeah,” Stark sighed, spreading his legs a little as Face worked his way between them, eagerly mouthing at Stark's cock.

The kid loved blowjobs, dishing them out east and west when they were on their own. Hannibal wondered sometimes if there was a particular reason for it, or if Face just loved the taste of cock. Either way, nobody ever stopped Face when he got going, because who didn't love having their cock sucked that enthusiastically?

“Holy shit!” Stark yelled, his head falling back. Face had just swallowed him down, deep-throating him without a problem. Hannibal grinned. Face never took the colonel's cock that quickly; he was apparently better equipped in that regard than mister Stark.

Yeah, he was just as primitive and size-fixated as other men in that respect, fuck you very much. Hannibal was hung and he knew it. And so did Face and Murdock, even if they did throw themselves at Tony Stark like giggling fourteen year-old fangirls. Hannibal had half a mind to remind them of it, too, before the night was over.

“Ease up there, Face, or there won't be any fun left for you guys,” Stark panted, pulling Face off him.

The kid gazed up at him, mouth red and swollen from the enthusiastic sucking. “What did you have in mind, uh, Tony?”

The name sounded all wrong coming out of Face's mouth, Hannibal decided, but Stark seemed to like it just fine. He grinned down at Face, pushing the younger man up to his knees, and reached past him for Murdock. “Oh, I can think of a few things I'd like to do before the night is out. How do you feel about spit-roast pilot?”

Murdock cocked his head to one side. “Facey's usually the one we spit-roast, ain't he, bossman?”

Hannibal had to hide a grin. Yes, he was, and the lieutenant always voiced his appreciation of that very loudly. And repetitively. Much to BA's chagrin if they didn't have soundproof walls in whatever safehouse they were shacked up in during the spit-roasting itself.

“Such a shame,” Stark said, dark eyes running over Murdock's body. The pilot's cheeks flushed just a little. “I'd really like to see him bent over for me. And I usually get what I want.”

Murdock didn't seem very enthusiastic, and Hannibal knew why. Murdock usually had more than enough on his plate with just one of them at a time; the pilot was a little unfocused at the best of times and he just couldn't concentrate on sucking cock at the same time he was being fucked. They'd tried it, but multitasking was usually Face's forte. Murdock just wanted to get through one orgasm at a time, not having to bring about two of them.

“Don't worry, HM, I have a plan,” Hannibal said, rising and lighting another cigar before stepping over to the bed. “Where're your supplies, Stark?”

“Supplies? Sheesh, lighten up a little, Adolf. Lube and condoms in the drawer right there,” Stark said, pointing to a small bedside table in the same style as the chairs. Swanky. Expensive. Impractical.

Hannibal threw two condoms on the bed and held out a tube of lube. “Prep him, Face.”

Stark watched, stroking his own (not unimpressive) erection, as Face kissed Murdock deeply, licking into the other man's mouth. Murdock sighed into the kiss and arched like a contented cat when Face ran his hands down the pilot's back. Then there was the click of the tube being opened, Face whispered something in Murdock's ear, and Murdock grasped Face's shoulders tightly as he was breached.

“Ooh, Facey,” he whimpered, on his knees, facing his friend and trying to keep his eyes open. Fucking gorgeous, Hannibal thought. “Oh. That's... a little more?”

“Your boys always obey you in bed, Hannibal?” Stark asked, voice heavy with lust. He was watching Face finger Murdock open with impatience and hunger, and Hannibal was planning to punch him in the face if he interrupted this. “Having trouble getting over your military rank?”

“My boys obey me in _everything_ , Stark,” Hannibal growled, looking down on the man lazing on the bed, grinning back up at him. “Just keep that in mind.”

Stark gave his dick a few tugs, looking Hannibal straight in the eye as he did it. The handsome brat's mouth fell open, his eyelids fluttering, and he gave a moan straight out of a porn movie. “Mm. Will do, sir.”

And Hannibal had to turn around so Stark wouldn't see how that made Hannibal's dick twitch in his fatigues. Fuck, that insolent...

“He's ready, boss,” Face said, his lips brushing Murdock's neck as he spoke. “Want me to...”

“Stark, put one of those on, and wait,” Hannibal directed, pointing to the condoms. “Face, get ready.”

Face threw Hannibal a heated smirk, probably totally aware of what the older man was thinking and finding it pretty amusing. Then the conman laid down on the bed, on his back, and reached a lube-slick hand down to prep himself.

“Oh, yeah,” Face moaned, pushing two fingers into himself right away. “Hannibal, shit, please?”

“Not tonight, Face,” Hannibal said, voice deep. “You ready, kid?”

“Yes, oh, fuck, yeah,” Face gasped. His fingers twisted, pushing in deeper, and a collective shudder went through the three men watching. “'M good, come on, fuck!”

“HM,” Hannibal said, locking eyes with his captain.

Murdock grinned and crawled over Face, the other man's legs spread wantonly. He grabbed a pillow and pushed it underneath Face's hips, then moved in and positioned himself. With one last glance up at Hannibal, Murdock pushed and sank into Face, making both men groan.

“He's sure... ready,” Stark said, looking at Face with wonder. “Doesn't he ever...”

“Team spirit, Stark,” Hannibal said with a grin. “Go ahead. You can fuck Murdock now.”

***

“Mister Baracus, I really must insist. Mister Stark would not appreciate -”

“That's sergeant Baracus to you, tech-face,” BA said, not really paying the annoying voice any mind. It was a computer; what was it gonna do? Calculate his taxes?

“Aw, hells yeah, baby. Come to daddy,” he murmured, going for the Lamborghini convertible he saw at the far end of the row of cars. “Dayum, you the finest piece of tail I've seen since Mexico!”

“Kindly do not break anything,” the voice said, and if it hadn't been a computer, BA was pretty sure it would have sounded snarky.

“I don't ever break cars, fool,” BA said, offended. “What are you, anyway?”

“I am Jarvis, sir. Mister Stark relies on me to -”

“Hey, what's that over there?” BA interrupted, changing directions and going for the red-and-gold suit of armour he saw in the middle of the room. “That the fool's flying suit?”

“Mister Stark is most attached to it. I must insist you do not touch it, sergeant.”

“I ain't gonna break it, so calm down,” BA scoffs. “How does this work?”

“An external power source is required. I am afraid I am going to have to notify mister Stark of your presence here, sir.”

“Why don't you?” BA challenged, lifting the helmet down. He wondered if he could take it apart before the boys upstairs finished their bitch fight, or if he should just have a look at the rest of the suit.

“Oh, holy fuck, yes!”

BA about gave himself whiplash turning towards the sound. That was Face's voice. The hell was going on?

He found himself staring at a screen mounted on the wall, and that screen appeared to be showing a live transfer from Stark's bedroom. Because there was a bed, and there was Stark, and there were also two of his team mates – naked and in the middle of getting fucked.

Face, on his back, was the one moaning like a whore – same procedure as every night. Murdock was over him, his dick _obviously_ up the conman's ass, keeping his weight up on his arms. And Stark behind Murdock, fucking into the pilot and driving them both forwards into Face in turn.

“God, yeah, oh, oh fuck, harder, Tony!” Face begged. Fucking _begged_.

“Turn that off, fool!” BA roared, glaring about him in search of Jarvis' main drive. “I did not need to see that!”

“I am sorry, sir. It would appear mister Stark is... unavailable.”

“The fuck you had to show me that for?” BA grumbled, putting the helmet back. He'd suddenly lost interest. “As if it wasn't bad enough with the noise; now I got a fucking visual!”

“My apologies, sir. I shall endeavour to delete it from my hard drive; it is unfortunate that you are not in a position to do the same.”

BA scowled. “Fine, fine, I won't touch the suit! Don't ever show me shit like that again, fool!”

“Here. You look like you could use one of these.”

BA turned towards the door. He hadn't heard her come down, which was surprising, considering she wore three-inch heels that should have made a lot more noise. She was standing just inside the door, all business-like and dressed up like the world's best paid personal secretary (which she probably was), and her red hair glinted in the light just so. She was offering him a bottle of beer.

BA suddenly lost all interest in the cars.

“You're, uh...”

“I'm Virginia Potts,” she said, and BA noticed she was holding a glass of white wine herself. “Call me Pepper. You must be sergeant Baracus. Jarvis showed you the recording, huh?”

BA grimaced. “Yeah, he – hey, what recording? Those fools been here before?”

“No,” the rather beautiful woman said, smiling slightly. “Mister Stark is a collector. He likes recording these little sessions. I'm sure he'll send you a copy.”

“Aw, hell no,” BA growled. “I ain't gonna be part of that fool shit.”

“You don't find it... interesting at all?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes. She took a sip of wine and regarded him over the rim of her glass. Damn, but she was pretty.

BA scowled. “I don't roll like that. Ain't got nothin' against it, on principle, but them fools are fucking _loud_ and a man needs his sleep.”

“Hmm. I always ask Jarvis to turn off the screens, myself, when mister Stark has visitors.”

BA took a sip of his beer, then grinned at her. Face wasn't the only one who was good with the ladies. “You ever ride one of these?” He gestured to the expensive cars lining the workshop.

“Oh, no, those are mister Stark's collectibles. I only ride with him if he requires my assistance.”

“Let's go for a spin,” BA said, and grabbed her hand, towing her towards the blue Alfa Romeo. Luckily, Stark was such an asshole that he left his keys in his cars. They were roaring out of the garage in no time, Pepper's eyes laughing as BA turned that baby onto the highway even if she was still protesting feebly.

***

“Oh God,” Face was ranting, writhing and bucking under Murdock. “Oh God, oh, oh, holy fucking _God_...”

“How do you even manage to leave your bedroom?” Stark grunted, thrusting forcefully into Murdock, controlling their rhythm as the three men moved together. “Hell, Hannibal, if I had this just waiting for me...”

“Every night, if I want to,” Hannibal growled. He'd resumed his seat in the chair, opened his fatigues, and his hand was down his shorts, slowly stroking himself. “And Face is always eager for cock, aren't you, kid?”

“Nnghyes,” Face moaned. He slid one hand down between him and Murdock and grabbed his own dick, stroking it quickly. “Fuck, yes, boss!”

“Facey,” Murdock whimpered, eyes scrunching shut. “Don't do that!”

Face only grinned and Hannibal knew he was clenching, tightening his body until Murdock couldn't stand it. The pilot gave a hoarse shout and faltered, arms giving out as he collapsed onto Face, lips seeking the conman's own. His body shivered with aftershocks of his orgasm, and Hannibal drew a sharp breath. Fuck, his pilot was delicious.

“Oh fuck,” Stark gasped, eyes rolling back. “Fuck, he's tight!”

“Don't you dare come yet,” Hannibal commanded, releasing his own erection and getting to his feet. This situation required his input, he decided. “Face.”

And Face reached around Murdock, grabbing Stark's balls, tightening his grip until Stark yelped and stopped fucking into Murdock's shivering body.

“Ow!”

“Not yet,” Face panted, eyes glazed with lust. “Boss got plans.”

“Ah, the invincible Hannibal Smith plans, trademark,” Stark said, grinning smugly up at Hannibal. “You still think you'll be fucking me, huh?”

“I don't think, Stark, I _will_ be fucking you in five minutes' time. And you'll be begging me for more in fifteen,” Hannibal said, removing his shirt and undershirt. Then he opened his belt, kicked off his boots, and slid his trousers down.

Stark stared. “Shit.”

Face laughed, the sound throaty and hungry. “Yeah. I think Hannibal's a _bigger_ BAMF than you, Tony.”

“Help the kid out, Stark,” Hannibal ordered. “It's not polite to leave him wanting like that.”

Stark extracted himself from Murdock, earning a whining sound of complaint, and let the pilot roll off to one side before crawling over Face.

“You like getting fucked, huh?” Stark commented, voice dark. He grinned down at Face. “How about adding Tony Stark to your list of conquests?”

Face all but purred as he arched into Stark's touch, happily curling his legs up around the other man's waist. “I think you're the one doing the conquering here, Tony, but who would say no to that?”

Hannibal watched, eyes narrow, as Face reached down and adjusted Stark's dick until he could slide into the conman's body. Both men were panting, holding back, and Hannibal once more decided his input was a necessity.

“Face can come on commando, did you know that, Stark?” Hannibal asked, climbing onto the indecently large bed behind Stark and grinning at the spectacular view. “No matter how long you fuck him, he won't come until I say he can.”

“Boss, please, not tonight,” Face pleaded, looking past Stark at Hannibal with wide, begging eyes. “I need this, boss!”

“I know you do, kid,” Hannibal said, resuming his strokes on himself and watching Stark's ass as the other man pumped shallowly into Face. He had a great ass. “That's why I'm going to give you exactly three minutes to finish before Stark is all mine. But he doesn't get to come yet.”

Face grinned, looking back up at Stark. “You heard the man. Let's get _oh shit holy fucking Jesus_!”

Stark really didn't waste time. He picked one of Face's legs up, pushed it up onto his shoulder and resumed his thrusts with a vengeance. Face began whimpering with need as Stark pushed into him repeatedly, a smug grin on his face, hips angling until he found just the right position to make Face beg.

“Fuck, oh, yeah, please!” Face rambled, hands fisting in the pillow beneath his head. He couldn't keep his eyes open any more than he could keep his mouth closed through his litany of little moans. Stark was pushing into his prostate with unerring accuracy, telling the conman that this was not the first time Stark had done this. “Please, please, harder, oh, fuck me, Tony, I -”

Stark took hold of his dick and began stroking, and Face was so close to losing it – he just needed Hannibal to tell him he could.

“Hannibal!”

“You know, in some cultures it's considered very rude to call someone else's name when you're having sex,” Stark panted, but he was still grinning so he couldn't be all that offended. “But I guess the colonel's got you bitchified, huh?”

“Make him come, Stark, and make it good,” Hannibal growled in warning. Then his voice took on a mocking quality, and he smirked. “Be a good boy and come for mister Stark, Templeton.”

Face gave a low wail and convulsed, his abdomen twitching as orgasm tore through him. Stark's hand milked him, forcing his body to give in, and the increased slickness of the weapons dealer's grip finally brought Face to a shuddering, light-headed end.

“Ngrngh,” Face said intelligently.

“Good boy,” Hannibal muttered pushing Stark out of the way to get at the kid. He kissed Face, long and slow, and felt his lieutenant smile into the kiss. Never let it be said that Hannibal Smith wasn't good to his boys.

“My, isn't this romantic,” Stark said, voice a little rough around the edges. “I'm sure you won't mind my French when I say, can we fucking get on with this, or do I have to call a hooker to get off tonight?”

Hannibal turned away from Face, and found Murdock sitting on the other side of the bed, eagerly following the action as if watching a football match. Stark was kneeling inches from Hannibal himself, still hard and still cocky to a point well past annoyance.

“Captain, hand me the other condom,” Hannibal said, smirking. He rolled it on, silently thankful that Stark himself was no lightweight so he at least had rubbers that would fit. He slicked himself up hastily then told Stark, “On your knees, facing the windows.”

Stark looked at him for a moment, sizing him up, then smirked and did as he was told. “Fine. But just so you know, if this doesn't turn out fucking _awesome_ , then I'm broadcasting this on YouTube – carefully doctored so nobody can see my face, of course.”

Hannibal snarled. “Oh, this'll be _awesome_ enough, Stark. You won't walk right for a week.”

“'S lucky he's got that flyin' suit,” Murdock commented, getting comfortable with a grin. “He won't need to walk.”

Hannibal chuckled. “True, captain.” Then he got to his knees behind Stark, and took himself in hand, rubbing a few times over Stark's opening.

The playboy tensed up and clutched the bedspread, obviously bracing himself. Hannibal grinned, then reached for the lube again.

“Face,” Hannibal muttered, sliding his fingers gently over the previously teased skin. “Can you suck him in that position?”

Face, eyes lidded with post-coital delight, grinned lazily and rolled to his knees, crawling between Stark's arms and nipping a little at the man's thighs. “Pull him up a little.”

Hannibal put an arm around Stark's waist, pulling him back until they were both kneeling upright. “Relax, Stark, it ain't _that_ big.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Stark said, but his voice hitched a little when Face rolled off the condom and began licking playfully at his dick. “It's not a trouser snake, it's a fucking anaconda!”

Murdock laughed. “Bossman's anaconda! Bosco's gonna love that when I tell 'im.”

Somehow, Hannibal doubted that. BA didn't like hearing about their escapades, and least of all did he enjoy being regaled with tales of Hannibal's endowment. He really couldn't see it himself; it wasn't all that bad, was it?

With lube sliding around on his fingers, Hannibal pushed two digits against Stark's opening, wanting to see how well the handsome little rich boy could take this. Face's mouth was happily occupied at Stark's cock, sucking until the weapons dealer was a shivering weight in Hannibal's arms. Two fingers slid in easily. Good.

“Broadcast this on YouTube, Stark,” Hannibal challenged with a grin. “I'll bet the whole world would just love to see how well you take it up the ass.”

Stark made a grunting response, but the hollowing of Face's cheeks indicated that he had other things on his mind than snarky replies at the moment. Hannibal much preferred him that way, and pushed back in with three fingers. The reactor in Stark's chest seemed to glow brighter, and the darkness outside allowed Hannibal to see their reflection in the windows.

Stark's mouth was attempting to form words, but the playboy didn't seem able to succeed in that particular endeavour while Face was sucking him and Hannibal was fingering him open. What a sight. Hannibal pushed his fingers in deep and went after Stark's prostate with a vengeance. A hoarse cry was his reward, and he decided Stark was ready.

Pushing Stark just a little bit forwards over Face, Hannibal reached down and positioned himself. With a few pulls on the dark-haired man's hips, a little help from Face and a few gentle thrusts from Hannibal, he was finally fully buried in the toned body in his lap. Hannibal sat back on his heels, pulling Stark with him, and the other man groaned.

“Good boy, Stark,” Hannibal murmured in his ear, his hips flexing up to thrust shallowly into Stark's body. The younger man drew in a shuddering breath.

As Hannibal began thrusting up into Stark's writhing body, Face eagerly went to finishing the job he'd started earlier that evening. Stark was pinned between them; his body impaled on Hannibal's dick and Face's mouth keeping his own prisoner. He wasn't complaining, either; the weapons dealer was moaning and cursing like a whore.

Then Murdock joined in the fray, leaning his chin on Hannibal's shoulder to whisper in the colonel's ear.

“How's he feel, bossman?” the pilot demanded. “He all tight an' hot like Facey?”

“Tighter,” Hannibal grunted, fingers tightening on Stark's hips. “But not as hot.”

“My, but don't y'all look a picture,” Murdock commented, locking eyes with Hannibal in their reflection in the darkened window. “Facey on his knees, where he belongs. You showing Tony who's boss. Bossman, I tell ya, there ain't nothing as hot as you being all dominant, you know that?”

Hannibal groaned, closing his eyes to stay focused against the combined forces of Stark's tightness around him and Murdock's filthy words in his ear. The pilot was perversely good at dirty talk, even if he didn't often display it.

“Mm, yeah. I bet ol' Tony knows who's boss now, Hannibal. You like fucking him? You gonna make him beg for your cock like you do me an' Facey?” Murdock hissed, biting a little at Hannibal's earlobe.

“Gonna make him beg,” Hannibal growled, thrusting a little harder. “Fuck, yeah!”

“Does he feel as good as me around you?” Murdock purred, and even though the pilot's voice was seductive and smooth, Hannibal could feel the tension behind the question.

“Never as good as you,” Hannibal gasped, loving the sound of Murdock's voice and the heat of his breath on skin. “Nobody's better than you boys, HM, fuck, not even Stark...”

Murdock's arms came around Hannibal's torso, playing along Stark's ribs before settling over Hannibal's own on Stark's hips. “Think he's gonna beg soon, boss?”

“Fine, fine!” Stark gasped, bucking in their grasp. “Anything you want! Please! Please just make me come!”

“Face,” Hannibal groaned, feeling the itchy heat of approaching orgasm curl his toes. “Face, now!”

“Fuck!” Stark yelled, hands fisting desperately in Face's hair, and the younger man purred audibly around Stark's cock, making both him and Hannibal moan in concert.

Then Hannibal could feel Stark's body twitch and shiver under his hands, and Face's throat was moving quickly. Stark was coming down his conman's throat, and the sight made Hannibal's head spin and he couldn't last much longer.

“HM,” he gasped.

“Such a pretty picture,” Murdock whispered, pressing close to Hannibal's back. “Fuck, bossman, watching you fuck him until he begs, hearing the sounds you make... I'm almost hard again, just from lookin' at you. Gonna look even better when you come, when you...”

Hannibal never heard the rest of that sentence; he roared as he came hard inside the gorgeous man in his lap, his mind blissedly blank and his heartbeat a rush in his ears. Every nerve ending seemed to twitch in delight and agony at the same time, making him jolt and arch upwards, pumping his release into that tight heat.

Heaving for breath, Hannibal came back to reality, finding that Murdock was supporting half of his weight from behind, still kissing his earlobe. Stark was being lazily kissed by Face, also held up mostly by the other man.

With a bit of disentangling and a few winces from sore muscles, the four men managed to relocate themselves into four separate units again. Stark stretched, stood up, and went to rummage for something in his bedside table. The something turned out to be a box of cigars – Cuban, by the smell.

“Join me?” the playboy suggested, nodding towards a door apparently leading onto a balcony.

Hannibal followed the man out, grabbing an expensive-looking dressing gown on the way. Stark was already tying one of his own.

“Well, I must say I'm impressed with the discipline and coordination installed by the military in today's youth,” Stark said, lighting up a cigar. Hannibal accepted one from the box and followed suit. “But I didn't think your torture methods included orgasm denial.”

Hannibal grinned, flicking a little ash off the railing. “We're outlaws, Stark. Army rules don't apply to us anymore.”

“The kids not coming out to play?” Stark commented snidely, gesturing towards the door. Face and Murdock seemed to have fallen asleep on the monstrosity of a bed, rumpled sheets and all, and Hannibal took a deep, relaxed breath as he looked back in at his sleeping boys. They never did learn his stamina.

“If you want the job to go off without a hitch tomorrow, I suggest you let them sleep,” Hannibal said with a soft smile. “It's not every day they get to have fun with a multimillionaire with such great pecs, after all. The excitement must have worn them out.”

Stark laughed a little. “See, you do have a sense of humour after all. I knew it wouldn't be a complete waste of time to invite you here, colonel. And that's multi- _billionaire_ , actually.”

Hannibal gave the other man a sharp look. “Invite _me_ here? I thought you were interested in Face and Murdock.”

Stark shrugged, his grin turning smug. “Oh, they're very nice boys indeed. I wouldn't have missed them for the world. But the main prize here was you. I just had to find out what the legendary Hannibal Smith hid under his clothes, and whaddaya know?”

The weapons dealer drew heavily on his cigar, and blew a smoke ring into the night air with an incredibly self-satisfied smirk.

“The anaconda really was that awesome.”


End file.
